Tired
by Gravebound
Summary: Butch wakes up in a hospital waiting room. Oneshot. Rated T for strong language.


"Dr. Davis, telephone please."  
The sharp sound of the intercom shook Butch awake from his little nap. He scanned the area - an empty hospital waiting room. He was firmly planted in a very uncomfortable chair, and his back and neck were stiff.  
He stood up. "Why in the pink shitting fuck am I here?" No one was around to answer him. Not even a receptionist at the desk. He was completely alone, and yet, his ears were filled with the noise of a busy hospital. Families crying over dead loved ones, nurses whisking around with bedpans, doctors smoking in the back.

_Hypocritical and useless._

Butch hovered above the ground and flew slowly towards the front door. The noises were getting louder as the whiteness of the walls and floor got sharper.  
"Shit, I'm really out of it," He said as he put a palm to his head. He bumped into the door, and when it didn't give, he muscled his way through. The doors fell off the hinges and clattered onto the sidewalk, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

He floated down the empty street, his feet glowing a dark green. He heard cars but didn't see them. He heard buzzing from neon signs, but didn't feel their radiation. The sidewalk got whiter and brighter, and the sky was pure black with not a star to be found. Almost like a cartoon. Voices all around him were laughing and talking, rotating around him like a carousel, but their owners were nowhere to be seen.

_Dry and empty._

He approached an apartment building and stood back as the main door fell flat in front of his feet. He shrugged and floated over it, his thick boots dangling so low they scraped the wood. The building inside was dark, and the only light came from Butch's feet as the green glow shined on his boots.

_Alone and cold._

Up the stairs and down the hall sat a lonely door baring a plate with the number 444 inscribed. The apartment he shared with his brothers. This door, however, allowed him to open it. Butch slid inside and looked around his dark little hovel. It was too late for anyone to be up, but there was a soft blue light emitting from the couch. He zipped around to the front to investigate, only to find Boomer sitting there. He had dark rings around his eyes, and his blonde hair was a complete wreck. He was reclining in his pajamas, holding a cup of whatever dark sludge he was drinking. His arms and hands shook as his eyes traced Butch up and down.  
"Boomer?" He asked awkwardly.  
"Leave," He answered, exasperation lingering on his voice.  
"This is house too, you can't tell me to leave."  
Tears leaked out of his eyes. "Every night... you come back. Please, just leave me alone." He cried.  
Boomer got to his feet and dropped the cup. The ceramic hit the hardwood and shattered, and the blonde didn't even flinch.  
"Yeah, you're losing it, dude."  
"Boomer?" Brick's voice rang out in the hall. The redhead pealed out from behind his bedroom door and flew into the living room.  
"Still here," Boomer creaked. Brick paid Butch no mind, and grabbed the other brother's shoulders.  
"If you stayed in bed, he wouldn't come back."  
"What the fuck is going on?" Butch spat.

_Unneeded and unloved._

Brick gently pushed Boomer down the hall and into his bedroom. Butch stood dumbfounded, but then shrugged. He'd deal with it in the morning.  
He coasted down the hall and went to open his bedroom door, but the knob wouldn't turn. Not even all of his super strength was enough to break down the door.

_That's all I ever was. _

Something at the bottom of the door caught his eye. A long, white line. Of... something.  
He groaned and turned to Brick's room where his brothers had disappeared.

_Beep... beep... beep..._

"We're losing him, what the fuck are we going to do?" He heard Boomer cry out from behind the door, his voice soon dissolving into loud sobs.  
"I don't fucking know, Boomer! Quit asking me!"

_Beep... Beep..._

Butch heaved a sigh and leaned up against the wall. He was lost. He felt like he had done this a million times before, but he had no idea what to do next. Like a constant loop. And he was tired.

"What if he never comes back from it?"  
"Why are you fucking asking me? You know what that means."

_Tired._

_Beep..._

Butch curled up on the ground. It would have to do for now, since he couldn't get into any rooms. He'd go back and lay on the couch, but something held him close to where his brothers were. He wanted so desperately to open the door and be with them, but he couldn't. He couldn't move.

_I'm so tired._

A long, steady beep rang out.  
A blonde boy with a wreck of hair and sleep deprivation stared ahead, horrified. His redheaded brother leaned forward in his chair and buried his face in his hands.  
"That's it?" Boomer's voice was broken and dry as it escaped from his chapped lips.  
"That's it." Brick said, muffled.  
"He's gone."  
"You motherfucker," Brick whimpered through his fingers. A single tear splattered onto the marble floor. "What the fuck have you done, Butch?"  
"I thought they pumped his stomach." He asked, distraught.  
"They did."  
"Then why didn't he wake up?"


End file.
